


Angels are just dead humans.

by Buttercup_ghost



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Angst, Experimentation, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, One Shot, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 23:57:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10819440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: And you are just a fallen one.You wonder, does that make you lucifer?It doesn't matter now.





	Angels are just dead humans.

_The creator lied to us._

It is silent, here.

His screams have stopped echoing off of the wooden walls—they were so _loud_ —and now it is quiet.

He is opened up, the place where his heart should be hooked up to a ink pipe.

You do not know who did this to him.

You do not know if it matters.

Bendy is laughing, now, he must have found him, and you can hear the sobs in his voice. He is deteriorating, smearing like ink, melting into a puddle of grief. He cannot see straight. You wonder if he ever could.

And you are watching.

You are watching, like you always do, above them, below them.

You are watching.

You will never be as popular as bendy; you know that now, you are fated to be a side character.

And so you sit on the sidelines, seeing.

You think you're the only one here who hasn't let emotions cloud you, the only one not making impulse decisions on a fogged mind, and you wonder how you feel about that.

You don't really feel much of anything, now a days.

You wonder if you ever had, as a fallen angel.

_Dreams do come true_

It's smeared on the wall, and you agree. It's mocking, condescending, and completely true. The thing about dreams is, you either wake up, or dream long enough for it to become a nightmare.

There's ink, everywhere now, and you wonder if you are to drown. You don't particularly care, unlike bendy you don't want to know the truth, instead you would rather stay cocooned in your apathy.

You think there's a time you can remember warm flesh for hands, instead of cold, lifeless ones. You think there's a time you can remember being praised for the voices you put on. You think there's a time you remember your name being _Susie Campbell._

It doesn't matter now; your hands are cold, paper and ink, your voice is flat, never changing like you remember, your name is _Alice Angel._

  
_Who's laughing now?_

No one.

 

**Author's Note:**

> -decends into another hell-
> 
> This is sort of a small theory I have about Alice based on the tape about her I guess -shrugs- 
> 
> On a side note, how did they afford so much ink? A gallon of ink is $3500 so, were did they get so much of it? Does the ink machine _make_ it? _from scratch?_ were does it come from? **Why does the ink seem sentient?**
> 
> There's no question that something supernatural is happening, but what, exactly, and _why_?
> 
> I can't wait to play chapter three to try and decipher whats really going on.
> 
> If you like this game, you can support it here: http://gamejolt.com/games/bendy-and-the-ink-machine/231092


End file.
